


promets-moi que tout ira bien

by marvel_middleearth



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Blood, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23680060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvel_middleearth/pseuds/marvel_middleearth
Summary: It is supposed to be a simple mission -- get in, gather the intel, disrupt the Galran supply line, get out. He's done mission after mission of the same nature with the Blades before, and Keith is confident this one isn't going to be any harder than the others, even if Voltron has been called in to back them up.Factor in broken communications, a rather inconvenient stab wound, and Lance McClain, and suddenly it's a mission from hell.And it's one that Keith isn't sure he's going to make it out of alive.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 184





	promets-moi que tout ira bien

**Author's Note:**

> So I *finally* got around to finishing one of the numerous Voltron fics I have sitting around on my laptop :D This is the first Voltron fic that I've actually posted, so fingers crossed it doesn't get lost to the Klance void.
> 
> TW for blood, stabbing, and language. Stay safe, y'all.
> 
> Title (promets-moi que tout ira bien -- promise me that everything will be fine) is from "Love Story" by Indila.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)

There was nothing quite like sneaking through the currently-deserted corridors of a Galran battlecruiser to get your heart racing, Keith reflected.

His boots muffled the soft sound of his footfalls as he crept down a magenta-lit corridor, eyes darting left and right beneath his mask, his hood pulled up over his head. Behind him, Kolivan and the three other members of the Blade of Marmora were treading just as silently, phantoms that ghosted down the corridor on silent feet, their knives like flashes of shadow and silver as they took down the occasional sentry that stumbled upon them.

He caught movement out of the corner of his eye and whirled, his knife flying out silently to dispatch a Galran soldier, who crumpled to the floor and was caught by another Blade, who dragged them out of the way. His heart was pounding with anticipation, all of his senses on high alert, and he fingered his knife with one hand and the USB in his pocket with the other.

The Blade of Marmora had been sent on an intelligence mission to gather information on and disrupt Galran supply routes that were shipping resources to other parts of the empire. The USB currently sitting idle in Keith’s pocket would be used to collect virtual maps of the supply routes, while Kolivan and the three other Blade members would quietly damage as many battlecruisers as possible as well as stealing or destroying any resources they came across.

The other Blade members dispersed into the surrounding corridors and suddenly Keith was alone, the corridor quieter than ever.

He jumped in surprise as a voice spoke suddenly into his ear, his hand flying to his knife until he realised it was just the intercom buzzing in his ear. He pricked his ears, listening into the conversation, and his eyes widened as he realised who it was.

_ Shiro? _

_ Voltron,  _ he realised suddenly, warmth settling in the pit of his stomach as he listened intently to what the black paladin was saying.

_ “This is, first and foremost, an intelligence operation,” _ Shiro was explaining, his voice crackling over the intercom.  _ He forgot to switch to a private channel,  _ Keith realised, the thought bringing an amused smile to his lips as Shiro went on.  _ “For the most part, we’ll need to use stealth, not firepower. We’re there to provide the Blade of Marmora with a lookout, and to provide a distraction if necessary. Is that understood, paladins?” _

The team chorused their agreement, and Keith felt a rush of fondness at the sound of their voices.  _ Holy shit, I missed you guys _ . Unable to help himself, Keith raised a hand to his comm as he slunk through the hallway, keeping low and alert but grinning to himself beneath his mask. “Hey, Shiro? You might want to watch who you’re talking to next time.”

There was silence for a long moment on the other end of the line before they all started talking at once.  _ “Keith?!”  _ Hunk, Allura and Pidge said in unison, as Lance squawked out,  _ “No way!”  _ and Shiro sighed,  _ “I just said that to the entire Blade unit, didn’t I?” _

“Yup,” Keith said in answer to Shiro’s question, his grin growing wider. “You probably should get Pidge to check that before you speak next time. I don’t think Kolivan appreciates unnecessary chatter on the comms.”

_ “Noted,”  _ Shiro replied, and Keith could hear the smile in his voice.  _ “I’m guessing you’re already on board the cruiser?” _

“On board,” Keith agreed, and couldn’t resist adding, “and waiting for you guys to get your asses on board.”

_ “We’re coming, we’re coming,”  _ Pidge answered.  _ “We’ve just arrived on board. Splitting up now to provide lookouts for the Blades.” _

_ “Stay safe, Keith,”  _ Shiro said.  _ “Good luck.” _

“You too,” Keith replied, and switched his comms off as he made his way towards the control room hallway.

The hallway was one of the main ones, yet was curiously less busy than usual, with only two Galran soldiers on patrol. Keith took down both of them in a matter of seconds, ramming the hilt of his knife into the backs of their heads and then dragging them into a storage cupboard to the side of the hall. He picked up on the sound of soft footsteps and whipped around to find their source, knife in hand.

There was a figure at the end of the corridor, one that looked familiar.  _ One of the paladins,  _ Keith realised happily, sheathing his knife as he recognised the flashes of white armour. He touched a hand to the side of his mask but refused to take his eyes off the paladin as the mask shimmered away from his face.

The paladin moved towards him, bayard flashing into their hand as they jogged, head swinging left and right as they surveyed the area around them, on the lookout for trouble. It almost looked like…

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no.

_ Lance?! _

Of all the paladins Shiro could have assigned to this quadrant, it had to be  _ Lance?! _

“Keith?!” Lance blurted, a range of emotions flashing across his face too fast for Keith to catch any one of them, though he suspected they were all somewhere between the range of  _ surprised  _ and  _ pissed. _

“What are you doing here?” Keith asked, eyeing Lance warily.

“I could ask you the same question!” Lance retorted.

Keith met his gaze steadily. “Doing my job,” he replied, reaching a hand up to activate his mask. “And you’re doing…?”

“ _ My  _ job.” Lance fingered his bayard, still gazing at Keith slightly suspiciously through the visor of his helmet.

Keith swallowed his hurt at Lance’s cold glare. _They’ve moved on,_ Keith reminded himself. He’s _moved on. They operate without you now. Of course he looks at you as though you’re a stranger. You left them._

_ The mission,  _ Keith reminded himself, turning away from Lance sharply. He pressed a gloved hand to the keypad to enter the control room, and heard Lance walking away behind him.

Keith was expecting the control room to have a couple of guards, so he unsheathed his knife with one hand and sunk into a fighting stance as the door hissed open.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to open the door and find a Blade already there.

Keith lowered his weapon slightly and advanced towards the Blade. “Hey,” he called aloud, letting his irritation seep into his voice. “What are you doing? I’m on control room duty.”

_ Does Kolivan really think I need backup just to steal some intel?! _

“The plan’s changed,” the Blade replied, her voice low and gravelly. “I’m on control room duty now.” She continued to flick through the screens, her long, clawed fingers dancing nimbly over the digital keyboard. On a screen off to the side, a loading bar was slowly inching toward halfway.

_ Trysta.  _ Keith recognised her voice. She was pretty high up in the Blade of Marmora’s rankings. She rarely removed her mask, and despite having glimpsed her occasionally around the Blade headquarters, Keith knew very little about her.

Keith frowned behind his mask. “Kolivan didn’t notify me.” He stepped towards her, trying to get a closer look at what she was doing.

“Are you defying orders, Blade?!” Trysta snapped. “Kolivan put me in charge of the data transfer. Now get --”

She was cut off by the sound of an alarm wailing overhead. Keith swore, one hand flying to his knife. He could hear the tramp of boots on metal and the nearby blasting of Lance’s bayard as he took the Galra soldiers down. “We need to get out of here,” Keith snapped, whirling around to face Trysta. “How close is the data transfer to completion?”

Trysta glanced at the loading bar. “Forty-seven percent,” she muttered. She waved a clawed hand at Keith dismissively. “Get out there and fight, Blade. I can handle this.”

Prickling at being dismissed so easily, Keith retorted, “I’m not a child! Let me help!” He gestured overhead as the alarm continued to scream. “Look, the Galra are going to turn up here any moment now. The mission is compromised. We need to get the intel and get out.”

“The mission is  _ not  _ compromised,” Trysta hissed. “Get out of here if you want. I’m not leaving.”

Keith set his jaw. “No,” he said firmly. He moved to the control panel beside her and swiped through a series of screens, scanning each of them quickly. “It looks like someone set off the alarms,” he reported, frowning, and felt Trysta stiffen beside him, “although I can’t get a fix on where the alert came from.”  _ Pidge probably could,  _ he thought wistfully.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Trysta said brusquely, and Keith turned his attention back to her, flicking his gaze down to the screen she was typing away at. The loading bar was almost three-quarters full now, and she was watching it intently, tapping her fingers impatiently.

_ Blade of Marmora.  _ The words darted out at him from Trysta’s screen.  _ Galra. Upload 76% complete. _

_ Upload?  _ Keith wondered.  _ Kolivan told me to download Galran data, not upload it -- _

"Wait…" Keith's eyes widened behind his mask in realisation, then narrowed. "You're the one who set off the alarms. You told the Galra we were coming." The pieces fit into place like a puzzle, and suddenly Keith could see the whole picture. "You're not transferring data for the Blades. You're uploading Blade data to the Galran network!"

"Very clever," Trysta hissed, turning around. "But I think you'll find you've figured it out too late."

Keith raised a hand to the side of his mask and activated his communicator. "Kolivan!" A crackle of static was his only reply, and he tried again. "Kolivan, come in!" He raised his eyes to lock gazes with Trysta as the static continued to whisper in his ears. "You've disabled the communicators."

"Not all of them." Trysta raised a hand to the side of her own mask. "This is Lieutenant Trysta, identification number 24601. I need three squadrons to the main hangar and three to the control room immediately."

_ "Copy that, Lieutenant,"  _ a voice replied faintly. The sound of Lance's bayard started up again outside.

Trysta studied Keith intently. “You’ve seen too much,” she said suddenly. “I know your type. At the first chance you get, you’ll go running back to Kolivan to tell him of my treachery.” She pulled her Blade of Marmora knife from her back, more like a scimitar in size and shape, and before Keith could blink she was slashing towards his throat.

He leapt backwards instinctively, his pulse accelerating as he snatched his knife from his belt and blocked her second strike. She was good -- better than him, almost certainly, and while he could hold her off for a little while, he wouldn’t stand a chance if this fight dragged on.

He needed to get out of here. Now.

***

_ Of course Keith had to be here. Of course. _

Lance sighed to himself, settling into his position in the doorway of one of the rooms just down the hallway from the control room. He propped his bayard, currently in the form of a gun, in his lap and continued to glance up and down the corridor, looking out for Galra soldiers.

It was suspiciously quiet aboard the battlecruiser, and Lance was practically bouncing on the spot with unspent adrenaline, itching for some action. While fighting wasn’t exactly his favourite thing -- in stark contrast to Keith, who seemed to spend his life on the training deck -- he’d rather a fight than this eerie quiet. It was  _ too  _ quiet for his liking: it was the terrifying calm before the biggest of storms, and Lance didn’t want to be around when the storm blew in.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when an alarm began to scream overhead, the magenta lighting darkening to scarlet. “What the fuck?” Lance muttered to himself, fingering the trigger on his rifle and shooting another glance down the corridor.

Making a split-second decision, he darted out of his hiding place and ducked further down the corridor, peering out into one of the central hallways. It was organised chaos, with soldiers charging left and right, all armed with standard-issue guns and all prepared for a fight. Any second now they’d realise that the control room was breached, and Keith would be surrounded.

He spun around and started back down the corridor.  _ Have to tell Keith, have to tell Keith…  _ Lance’s boots pounded out a rhythm in time to his thoughts as he ran, bayard in hand, gripping it so hard the tips of his fingers turned white.

He skidded to a stop outside the control room door and slammed his hand against the keypad. “Keith --” His name flew from Lance’s lips before he could even process the scene in front of him.

Keith was locked in combat with another Blade almost twice his size, their knives clashing as they wove and dodged around each other like dancers performing a lethal routine.

Keith jerked in surprise at his name, his gaze darting to the doorway and finding Lance’s.

The momentary lapse in his concentration was all it took.

The Blade lunged forward, straight through Keith’s defences, and plunged her knife into his chest.

***

At first, Keith didn’t even realise she’d stabbed him.

It felt like a punch to the chest, one that left him breathless and aching as his gaze darted to the knife protruding from the right side of his chest.

Lance screamed his name, but all Keith could focus on was the triumphant glitter in Trysta’s eyes and the sickening feeling of metal against flesh as she withdrew her blade, glistening with crimson blood.

_ My blood,  _ Keith realised, feeling strangely detached, gripping his knife tighter as Trysta swung her blade towards him again.

There was a scuffle of movement from Lance and Trysta fell, a bullet hole in her stomach. Keith’s hand dropped to his side limply and he stared at her, frowning slightly. The front of his suit was growing uncomfortably hot and damp, and he could feel blood trickling down his skin beneath the suit.

Lance appeared at his side, gripping his shoulder with startling intensity, his blue eyes wide with terror. “Keith!” he gasped. “Holy shit! Are you --  _ dios mio,  _ Keith!”

Keith sheathed his knife with one hand and pressed his other hand to his chest, his breath hitching slightly as the pressure sent a wave of pain through him. His fingertips came away dark with blood.

“I need to tell Kolivan,” he said, his voice sounding slightly distant to his own ears. “We need to let everyone know that the mission is compromised. We have to get out of here.”

“Yeah, we do!” Lance agreed, his voice slightly hysterical. “We need to get  _ you  _ out of here, back to the Castle, and straight into a healing pod before you bleed out!”

“I’ll be fine,” Keith said dismissively, trying to ignore how weak his legs felt as he crossed to the door. “We need --” He stumbled as pain washed through him, blurring his vision at the edges.

_ “Keith!”  _ Lance  _ definitely  _ sounded hysterical now, and his grip on Keith’s shoulder was twice as intense. “We need to -- okay, we need to stop the bleeding --  _ dios mio, dios mio --  _ shit, shit, I don’t know what to do --”

“I’m  _ fine,”  _ Keith gritted out, swallowing hard. He blinked furiously, trying to clear the blurry patches at the edges of his vision and wincing as his head spun. “We need to get to the others --”

He slammed his palm into the keypad, trying to hide from Lance how heavily he was leaning against the wall. The door hissed open and Keith staggered through, Lance hurrying behind him anxiously.

Keith picked up on the march of boots on metal straight away and flung out an arm, gasping as the movement sent white-hot agony through his chest and made stars dance across his vision nauseatingly. “Stop,” he gasped, when Lance opened his mouth to speak. “Galra.”

Lance stiffened, one hand flying to his bayard. “I’ll take them out,” he said. “You stay here and don’t move, alright?”

Keith tried to shake his head in vehement disagreement, but a sudden burst of agony filled his vision with white and sent him into an unsteady stumble, his knees going weak beneath him. Lance barely caught him, his fingers accidentally brushing the injury as he did so, and an involuntary whine burst from Keith’s throat.

“I’m sorry!” Lance quickly apologised, sounding panicked. “Can you stand? Can you -- can you walk?”

“I’m fine,” Keith mumbled, trying to get his legs to steady themselves. He was standing, but barely; he was slightly worried about collapsing if Lance let go of him. He braced himself against the wall and jerked his head minutely in the direction of the approaching Galra. “We have to --”

_ “I  _ have to,” Lance corrected. “Stay here, Keith. That’s an order.” He eyed Keith sternly. “I’m a paladin of Voltron. You are legally not allowed to disobey a direct order from me.”

“Is that right, huh?” Keith muttered, collapsing against the wall and sinking to the floor. He heard Lance hiss out a sudden, sharp breath, and vaguely realised that he’d probably just left a streak of blood down the wall.

“I’ll be right back,” Lance promised, and jogged off down the hallway, his bayard in hand.  _ Is that a sword?  _ Keith wondered, squinting after Lance, but his head was spinning and it hurt to keep his eyes open, so he leant his head back against the wall and let his eyes fall closed.

He blinked awake to Lance shaking him. “Hey, hey, stay with me, Keith!” Lance insisted, shaking his shoulder gently, making Keith moan with pain, the world spinning nauseatingly around him.

"Keith…" Lance's face blurred. "Keith! Stay with me --"

"I'm here," Keith slurred, tasting blood in his mouth. "Lance -- go --"

" _ No,"  _ Lance said fiercely, his eyes suspiciously watery. A tear slipped free and trailed down his cheek like a splash of rain against glass.

Keith forced a smile, pushing through the agony as he stretched out a shaky hand to brush the tear away. His fingers left an ominous crimson smear across Lance's cheek instead. "Go," he forced out.  _ "Go." _

_ "No!"  _ Lance choked out. "No. I'm gonna get you out of here, alright?! You're gonna be fine. I just gotta-- I gotta --" He pressed a finger to his comms again.  _ "Shiro! Pidge! Hunk! Allura! Anyone?!"  _ His voice was ragged with desperation.

Keith coughed, his breath rasping in his throat. "Lance --" He could taste the blood on his lips. "L-lance -- leave me -- go…"

_ "No!"  _ Lance yelled, tears streaming down his face. "No! Never, never, never -- I'll never leave you, I promise!"

Blackness flickered at the edges of his vision as Keith stared up at Lance, memorizing every inch of his face: his ocean-blue eyes, the bronze tones of his skin, the deep caramel of his hair.

Keith didn't want to go.

Keith didn't want to leave Lance behind.

But his hearing was fading, Lance's screams becoming distant. Keith's chest was agony; it was becoming harder to breathe with every gasp he took -- he was choking on blood and air, and yet all he could think of was  _ Lance, Lance, Lance. _

"...have to go," Lance's voice echoed in Keith's ears, and vaguely Keith realised that he was talking to him. "We gotta get to the hangar, okay?! The others will be there, Keith, they have to be, we gotta get to the hangar so we can meet them there and get you back to the Castle."

"Okay," Keith mumbled, fighting to keep his eyes open.

"I gotta carry you, okay?!" Lance continued, his voice desperate. "I'm gonna try and carry you there, yeah?!" He carefully maneuvered his arms beneath Keith's shoulders and his knees, then carefully lifted him.

Keith managed an agonized gasp at the fire that raced through him before everything dissolved into darkness.

***

"Keith?!"

The red paladin had gone limp in Lance's arms, and for a moment Lance panicked --  _ dios mío he's dead he's dead --  _ before he caught sight of the soft but unsteady rise and fall of his chest.

He rose shakily to his feet, cradling Keith against him as carefully as he could. Keith's head lolled, his black fringe straying across his too-pale face. Lance could simultaneously not bear to look at him nor away.

Keith was lighter than Lance had expected, but he still initially staggered under the weight, his ability to carry him hindered by the jagged wound, which -- Lance tried not to look -- had left a deep scarlet stain on the floor and soaked the chest of Keith's suit in dripping crimson.

He hurried through the corridors, darting into doorways whenever he heard a patrol coming. He couldn’t afford to engage with any of them now, not while both of his hands were occupied and Keith was particularly vulnerable.

He heard faltering footsteps on the floor behind him and whirled, his heart pounding with dread, expecting to come face-to-face with the muzzle of a Galran soldier’s gun.

What he found was arguably worse.

"No," Lance gasped, shrinking away. " _ No.  _ I -- I shot you! You should be dead!"

Trysta stalked towards him, her movements pained and unsteady but still full of purpose. Lance backed away in terror. "Not quite yet, paladin."

Her knife glittered menacingly in her hand, the point stained red with blood --  _ Keith's blood  _ \-- as she raised it level with Lance's throat. Lance stumbled backwards with a sob of fear, clutching Keith tighter in his arms. "Don't touch him," he growled, his breath catching in his throat. "Don't you dare touch him again."

"Him?" Trysta spat. "I don't need to do anything to  _ him.  _ He's as good as dead. He won't last the next half-varga." Lance choked on a sob. "You should be more worried about what I'm going to do to  _ you." _

"Stay away from us," Lance warned, his voice shaking. Keith stirred in his arms, his face pale with pain, but didn't wake.

Trysta went on as though he hadn't spoken. "You wounded me, blue paladin," she hissed, her injury obvious as she limped towards him. "I think it's time I returned the favour."

"Red," Lance interrupted.

Trysta paused. "Red?"

"Yeah. I'm the red paladin, not the blue paladin," Lance corrected, feeling courage well up inside him at the small defiance. 

"But you're wearing blue," Trysta pointed out suspiciously.

"Yeah, I know, it's kinda confusing," Lance said nervously, wary of the steely look in Trysta's eyes. "See, I  _ was  _ the blue paladin for a while, but then our leader went missing and the lions got shuffled around, so Allura became the blue paladin and I became the red paladin, and --"

" _ I don't care!"  _ Trysta snarled. "I'm going to paint the  _ walls  _ red with your blood!"

She stalked towards him and Lance stumbled away, tripping over his own feet and crashing to the floor, Keith tumbling out of his arms. His bayard was knocked away and skidded just out of reach. Sprawled across the floor next to him, Keith moaned, his breathing ragged and his lips flecked with blood.

Lance drew himself up onto his knees, reaching over Keith to unsheath his knife and throwing himself in front of the unconscious paladin in an effort to protect him. Trysta didn't falter in her stride towards him, studying him with narrowed eyes. "You know, I almost admire your fighting spirit," she said. "I suppose some may be saddened to see it put out."

She lunged without warning and Lance only just brought his knife up in time. The impact of the two knives clashing sent pain up Lance's arm but he held firm, gritting his teeth.  _ If I lose, I will die. If I lose, Keith will die. _

_ He's as good as dead. He won't last the next half-varga,  _ an echo of Trysta's voice reminded him.

Lance shoved her knife away and drove his own forward, but Trysta was far more used to this style than he was and batted the blow away easily. She responded with a flurry of fierce blows -- Lance barely blocked them -- that struck his knife with terrifying accuracy. She brought up her leg and kicked him in the chest, sending him crashing to the floor. Lance swung his knife, flat on his back on the ground and unable to do anything else, but Trysta flicked it out of his hand with ease.

"Neither of you should ever have meddled in my business." Trysta levelled her blade at his chest. "End of the line, paladin."

_ No.  _ Lance could see his bayard in his peripheral vision, centimetres from his outstretched fingers. If only he could just reach it --

Three things happened at once.

One: Lance grabbed desperately for his bayard and managed to grasp the handle with the tips of his fingers.

Two: Trysta plunged the knife down towards his chest.

Three: Keith shakily pushed himself up off the floor, ghostly pale and covered in blood, and threw himself across Lance's chest.

The knife tore into Keith's shoulder and clean out the other side; Lance felt the pressure through his chestplate. Keith let out an awful, agonized gasp -- Lance knew that would be the soundtrack of his nightmares -- and fell limp against Lance.

There was a sound ringing in Lance's ears, and it took a moment for him to realise that it was the sound of his own screams.

Trysta stared at them in shock before withdrawing her knife, her expression resolving into disgust. She grabbed Keith's limp arm and half-shoved him away, swinging her knife towards Lance again.

Lance raised his bayard, his finger on the rifle's trigger, and shot her.

Trysta crumpled to the ground and Lance kicked her prone form away from them with a horrified shudder. He gently rolled Keith off his chest, his stomach lurching at the blood splattered across his own chestplate from Keith's shoulder, and knelt beside his motionless body. "Keith?!" he gasped, his voice ragged with desperation. "Keith?!" He cupped Keith's cheek in his palm, feeling tears stinging the corners of his eyes. "Please wake up. Let me know you're alive," he pleaded. "Please, Keith --  _ come on…" _

Keith was unmoving, as though carved from stone -- Lance had to actually stare at his chest for several long seconds just to reassure himself that Keith was, in fact, still breathing.

“Holy shit,” he whispered to himself, feeling a little like a broken record. “Holy shit. Holy shit.”

He dragged his scattered thoughts into some semblance of a plan --  _ Carry Keith to safety. Find others. Get Keith into a healing pod  _ \-- and pulled Keith into his arms again. He was a dead weight --  _ don’t dwell on that thought stop thinking about it stop stop stop  _ \-- and Lance’s hands were shaking with adrenaline and fear, which didn’t help in the slightest.  _ The hangar is nearby. The others have to be there,  _ he consoled himself.  _ The others will be there. _

_ Right? _

They had to be.

Because if they weren’t, Keith was going to die.

***

Lance knew that the short walk back to the hangar was one that would haunt his nightmares.

Scratch that, this whole  _ mission  _ was probably all he would have nightmares about for  _ months. _

By the time he reached the hangar he was exhausted, his feet moving on autopilot as he stumbled along the corridor and burst into the hangar. He was so focused on staring at the ground so he didn’t trip over, so focused on watching Keith’s still expression, that it took him a moment to realise that he wasn’t alone.

He glanced up.

Shiro, Allura, Hunk and Pidge stared back.

It was like a scene out of a horror movie, and judging by the expressions of the other paladins, it looked as bad as he knew it was: Lance stumbling towards them, his face stricken with desperation, his chestplate and globes splattered with blood as he clutched a limp and motionless Keith in his arms, an uneven trail of crimson drops splashed across the floor behind them.

“Please,” Lance choked out, tears shining on his face as he staggered towards them. Shiro and Allura were already breaking into a run as they hurried towards him. Pidge and Hunk seemed rooted in place with horror; Hunk looked paler with shock than Lance had ever seen him. “Please -- he needs -- you have to --”

Shiro reached him, already bombarding him with questions. “What happened?! What happened to him, Lance?!” he demanded. “These aren’t bullet wounds --”

“There was a rogue Blade,” Lance explained, his voice rough from screaming. “She and Keith were fighting when I came in -- Keith was distracted and she -- she stabbed him.” He glanced up at Shiro tearfully, already pulling away. “We need to get him back to the Castle  _ now.  _ Please --  _ he’s going to die,  _ Shiro _. Please.” _

“Get him into Black,” Shiro commanded. “We’re getting out of here now. Are anybody’s comms working? We need to let Kolivan know that the mission is compromised.”

“The comms are down -- I don’t know who did it, but it’s definitely not just a technical glitch,” Pidge reported anxiously, bringing up a display of glowing statistics on a screen projected from her wrist. “I’ll try to work on getting it back up and running, but I don’t know how long it will take. I have to factor in the workability of the mainframe -- and that’s not even taking into account the --”

“ _ Pidge,”  _ Allura said meaningfully, drawing the green paladin’s attention to her. “Do whatever you can. We must work with what we’ve got.” She met Shiro’s gaze, a firm tilt to her jaw. “You must get Keith back to the Castle. Pidge, Hunk and I will stay here until the Blade of Marmora have been notified of the failure of the mission. We’ll meet you back at the Castle as soon as we can.”

Shiro nodded firmly. “Let’s go, Lance,” he ordered, already striding towards Black.

Lance heaved a deep breath and started after him, suddenly feeling more exhausted than ever, as he hurried up Black’s ramp and followed Shiro to the cockpit. The last time he’d been in here, he’d been trying to convince Black to let him pilot her. It felt so long ago now: Shiro had been missing, and Keith had still been with the team.

Now Shiro was back, and Keith was dying in his arms.

Shiro flung himself into the pilot’s seat and Black roared to life, shooting out into space before Lance even had time to get properly settled. He sat back against the wall, cradling Keith in his lap, one arm supporting his back gently as Shiro piloted Black as carefully as possible back to the Castle of Lions.

“You can’t die,” Lance whispered, numbly brushing a strand of hair away from Keith’s forehead. “Do you hear me, Keith? You can’t die. I’m not letting you. I said you can’t, so you can’t, alright? That’s an executive order from a paladin of Voltron. You kinda have to obey it. I’m a defender of the universe.” He tried to ignore the feeling of blood dampening the fingertips of his gloves as he went, “You gotta live for me, okay? I know self-sacrifice is in your nature, or whatever, but you can’t go out like this. You  _ can’t.”  _ A tear slid down his cheek and fell into Keith’s hair. “I still need you. Please.  _ Please. Please,  _ Keith.”

Black touched down in her hangar and Shiro was out of his seat in an instant, crouching beside Lance. “I’ll take him,” he offered. Lance relinquished his hold gratefully, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes as he rose to his feet and followed closely behind Shiro all the way to the healing pods.

Coran met them there, his eyes round with shock and horror but his attitude businesslike and urgent as he helped Shiro get Keith into a healing pod. Lance sat on the steps a few metres away, his arms wrapped around his knees, feeling completely and utterly numb.

He glanced up when he felt an arm on his shoulder. “Hi, Lance,” Allura said softly, her gaze understanding and sympathetic. Her hair had fallen out of its usual strict bun and fell to her waist in soft white waves. “I don’t know how much you’ve been listening to, but Keith -- he’s going to be alright, Lance. He’s going to be alright.”

Lance nodded numbly, and let Allura gently guide him to his feet. She led him through the Castle to his room, Pidge and Hunk catching up with them along the way. Pidge took hold of his other hand, her amber gaze sombre but her grip on his hand reassuring.

Allura and Pidge waited outside as Hunk ushered him into his room and helped him take his armour off. The front of it, usually stark, snowy white, was streaked with crimson stains, and Lance felt sick to his soul just looking at them.

“Get some rest,” Hunk said gently, shooing him into bed once he’d changed into his pajamas. “You need the rest. I promise I’ll tell you if he wakes up early,” he assured him, when Lance opened his mouth to protest.

“Okay,” Lance mumbled, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep the heartbeat the door hissed closed behind Hunk.

***

“Any minute now,” Coran assured them, looking amused at the sight of them all clustered around the healing pod like inquisitive puppies. “The healing process takes approximately three quintents, and given that we put him in here nearly --”

“Okay, we get it, Coran,” Lance interrupted, trying to ignore the urge to tap his foot impatiently. “The healing process should be nearly done, yada yada yada.”

“Guys!” Pidge interrupted excitedly, and Lance whipped around just as the healing pod door hissed open.

Keith swayed unsteadily on the spot, his eyes closed and his face ghostly pale. He collapsed forward and Shiro rushed to grab him, flanked by the other paladins.

Keith fell into Shiro’s arms limply, unresponsive for a heartbeat before his eyes fluttered open. He frowned up at Shiro, his dark brows furrowed as confusion flickered across his expression. “Where’s Lance?” he rasped.

“What?” Shiro said, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Where’s Lance?” Keith repeated, stumbling to his feet; Shiro grabbed his arm as he swayed precariously. Lance was reminded horribly of the sight of Keith covered in blood, trembling with agony in his arms --

Their gazes met.

_ He hates me,  _ Lance thought wildly as Keith shook off Shiro’s supporting hand and started determinedly towards him.  _ He blames me -- why wouldn’t he? I was the one who distracted him -- who got him stabbed -- who nearly got him killed -- _

He half-closed his eyes in anticipation of the shouting match that was to come.

It never came.

Instead, Keith lurched forward, wrapped his arms around Lance’s torso, and buried his face in his shoulder.

Lance froze in surprise, his eyes widening, but guilt and relief were washing over him in thunderous waves and he quickly returned the embrace, his eyes slipping closed with relief. Keith was quivering, slumped against Lance in exhaustion but still managing to grip him tightly. He lingered long past the time frame of a normal hug, seemingly unwilling to move, and Lance was halfway to believing he had fallen asleep when he whispered, “I was scared I’d lost you.”

“Me?” Lance pulled away, still gripping Keith’s shoulders, and it was as though the rest of the room faded away and he and Keith were the only ones left in the universe. “ _ I  _ thought I’d lost  _ you.  _ You were bleeding to death in my arms! Do you know how long that’s gonna haunt my nightmares, Keith?! And you’re worried about me?!”

“The last time I saw you, Trysta was pointing a knife at your chest,” Keith snapped. “Can you blame me for being worried? I didn’t know if I was going to wake up and find you were --” he stumbled over the word, “--  _ dead _ .”

“I didn’t know if  _ you  _ were going to wake up  _ at all!”  _ Lance replied shrilly, vaguely aware of the other paladins staring at him as his awareness filtered back in. “Do you know how many times I cried the other day because I thought you’d stopped breathing in my arms?! I thought you had  _ died  _ and it was  _ all my fault!” _

“Why would it be your fault?!” Keith spluttered.

“I distracted you!” Lance yelled. “It was my fault that you got stabbed! Not just once, either, I got you stabbed  _ twice,  _ and all because I couldn’t stay away -- because I couldn’t protect you --”

“You  _ saved me,  _ you idiot!” Keith shouted, his face twisted as though he was trying to hold back tears. “I would have been dead if you hadn’t come along! You  _ literally  _ carried me to safety! You cradled me in your arms! You  _ saved my life!” _

They stared at each other for a long moment, breathing hard, before Lance choked out a breathy laugh. “We’re both fucking idiots,” he grinned, blinking back tears.

A smile crept reluctantly onto Keith’s face. “Yeah, we are,” he agreed, the anger fading from his expression, replaced by weariness.

“You need to rest,” Lance said firmly, turning Keith around and steering him towards the door. He tossed a glance over his shoulder. “What are you guys standing around for? Hello, Keith is awake? Has nobody else realised this?”

“Those two are very, very weird,” Hunk whispered to Pidge, who nodded emphatically.

“And very, very oblivious,” she agreed with a sigh, trudging after them.

***

A couple of hours later found Keith slumped on the couch, pale and exhausted. Hunk had cooked him something earlier -- “Dude, you haven’t eaten in  _ days,”  _ Hunk had pointed out firmly, “and while you’re aboard this Castle-ship, I’m making you food, young man.” -- and then left him, albeit reluctantly, when Keith had requested peace and quiet (“Not that I don’t appreciate all this,” Keith had added hastily, “I’m just really tired.”). Now, curled up on the couch, Keith was half-heartedly considering trying to find out whether his room was still here just so he could get some sleep in an actual bed rather than curling up in the spare set of pajamas he’d borrowed off Lance.

The door hissed open and Keith blinked his eyes open to find Lance, his gaze soft. “Hey,” he greeted. “Sorry to disturb you. Hunk told me you’d be in here, and I thought you might be uncomfortable, so I brought you these.” He held up an armful of blankets. “Coran mucked around with the heating systems a few weeks ago and they’ve been pretty unpredictable ever since.”

Keith pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Thanks,” he said exhaustedly, rubbing at his temples.

Lance perched on the edge of the couch and unfolded a blanket, passing it to Keith, who accepted it gratefully and slung it around his shoulders. Keith half-expected him to rush off again, but Lance seemed reluctant to go anywhere.

“I can leave, if you want,” Lance said finally. “You’ve been through a lot; I understand if you want some space right now --”

“Please, don’t,” Keith said quickly. He met Lance’s gaze for a heartbeat, then looked away, feeling his cheeks flush lightly. “It’s just -- I’m scared that if I let you out of my sight, you’re going to disappear. If it’s all the same to you -- could you stay? Please?”

The truth hung in the air between them, and Keith almost opened his mouth to take it all back when Lance spoke, sounding relieved. “Oh, thank God, because I really do not want to leave you right now either. Every time you’re gone, I’m terrified you’re going to turn up covered in blood again.” He said it so quickly it would have almost sounded casual if not for the tremble in his voice.

Keith laughed shakily. “I guess neither of us are going anywhere then, huh?”

“Damn right,” Lance agreed. “Now shove over, because I don’t care how much of a ‘lone wolf’ you pretend to be, I’m hugging you right now and I’m not letting go for at least five minutes.”

_ That’s fine by me,  _ Keith thought, and then promptly had the air crushed out of him as Lance hugged him tightly.

“Ouch,” he mumbled against Lance’s shoulder. Lance let go of him immediately, looking horrified.

“ _ Dios mio,  _ I’m so sorry! Are you still hurt?!” he gasped, his eyes wide and so very, very blue. Keith wanted to get lost in them and he thought that, given the chance, he probably would.

“I’m fine,” Keith assured him, smiling, “but I can’t exactly breathe when you’re squeezing the life out of me.”

“Sorry,” Lance grinned, wrapping his arms gently around Keith’s shoulders. “Better?”

“Much better,” Keith agreed, burying his face in the crook of Lance’s neck and humming happily.

Keith felt the laugh vibrate through Lance’s figure. “Who knew you were this big of a hugger, mullet?”

“Only when it’s you,” Keith hummed, weariness loosening his tongue.

Lance stilled. “What?”

“You’re a good hugger,” Keith argued, refusing to move from his position so that Lance couldn’t see his steadily-reddening cheeks.

“Is that the only reason?” Lance teased, a hopeful note in his voice.

“That’s the only reason I’m going to tell you right now,” Keith mumbled. “Now shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

Lance laughed. “Using me as a pillow?”

“Yup.”

He felt Lance settle back against the couch and slumped further against him, knocking him sideways. “Keith,” Lance huffed, “you’re lying on top of me.”

“Don’t care,” Keith mumbled. “Shut up.”

“Wow, I’m really feeling the love right now,” Lance grumbled, ruffling the top of Keith’s hair good-naturedly and wrapping one arm around him.

Keith let out a sigh, feeling sleep dragging at his eyelids. “Love you,” he muttered, barely audible.

Lance’s whispered “I love you, too,” was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! If you've enjoyed it, kudos is always appreciated, and if you've got time I'd love to hear what you think of it in the comments section!
> 
> (Also if someone could tell me how you add your own tags that would be epic, I did it once by accident and have not been able to since)


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